


My Dear

by cathcer1984



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Regency, F/F, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23556793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathcer1984/pseuds/cathcer1984
Summary: It is a truth universally known that a single man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife.Right?
Relationships: Derek Hale/Lydia Martin, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura
Comments: 12
Kudos: 356





	My Dear

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to write a sequel to another fic but I started writing a Pride and Prejudice Steter fic instead... 
> 
> It's not a P&P remake, though it is inspired by that somewhat so there are similarities in the story lines. I also apologise because there is no Mr Collins. 
> 
> The first sentence (and summary) belong to Jane Austen.
> 
> I'd also like to add that the homophobia is not blatantly referenced but it is implied and it's implied that Stiles internalised the phobia that surrounds him.

It is a truth universally known that a single man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife. Stiles knows this to be true and he's just as caught up as everyone else in the excited whispers that travel the length and breadth of Beacon.

"Have you heard?" Mama Melissa asks, as she comes into the drawing room where Stiles is reading and Scott is playing cards. They both look up at her. "Where's your papa?" 

"In the study. Heard what, mama?" Scott says eagerly. 

"About Nemeton Hall being let at last," Stiles drawls as he goes back to his book. "It's all over the town. Lydia told me when I visited her this morning." 

"Oh." Mama Melissa is frowning when Stiles glances up at her, and he feels a little bad about taking the news from her. 

"Papa doesn't know. If you wish to inform him." Stiles offers. 

Mama Melissa smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you aware the man letting it is a Mister Derek Hale? Five thousand pounds a year and he's coming to the ball on Saturday. He's bringing five ladies and three gentlemen."

Stiles did know that, well he'd heard four ladies and two gentlemen, but he doesn't let on, he just says "too many ladies." 

Scott sniggers and Mama Melissa sighs before leaving the room to go and tell Stiles' father. They married when Scott and Stiles were nine, long after Melissa's first husband had left her for another woman and a time after Stiles' mother had died. They're a family though, the four of them. They aren't rich and Stiles is very glad that he won't have to marry to secure his future, not like Lydia. 

He closes his book. "I'm going for a walk." Stiles leaves the room and subsequently the house fairly quickly with no chance of Scott following along. He strolls through the woods that surround his home. Stiles enjoys walking and reading. He likes meeting new people and has an anticipatory flutter in his stomach about the ball on Saturday. What he doesn't like is the assumption that he'll find a girl and marry her. 

A couple of years ago Scott and Stiles came of age, twenty years old and ready to face the world of women and chaperones and marriage. Stiles has a secret he'd never told anyone, not even Scott, he barely lets himself think it except in the dark of the night.

The sound of hooves startle him from his thoughts and Stiles moves to the edge of the trees and sees two horsemen trotting along the fields. One has a black horse, the other is brown. Their top hats and coats look to be a high quality, the taller of the men has a full black beard, the other a light brown beard around his mouth and chin, both are broad in the shoulders. 

The shorter man turns his face to the woods, and for some reason, Stiles hides quickly behind the tree he's leaning on. His heart pounds and his cheeks feel hot, just from the sharp knowing gaze of the man. Stiles doesn't allow himself to breathe as he strides his way home, he pretends he doesn't hear the hooves stop nor the low murmur of voices. 

*

Saturday comes around and the entire Stilinski family makes it's way to the town hall for the ball. It's fuller than it usually is, probably because everyone wishes to get a look at the newcomers. 

Early on Stiles finds Lydia in the crowd. "Lydia," he greets her with a smile. She holds out her hand and he kisses the back of it as he bows, she dips herself in a shallow curtsy. "How are you my friend?"

"I have painted and corseted by my mother in hopes to sell me off to the highest bidder. How do you think I am?" 

"Now, now, Lydia," Stiles chides, "not the highest bidder but the wealthiest."

She digs her elbow into his side and he laughs. The doors open and there is a group of people standing there. The newcomers have arrived. The dancing stops so the towns folk of Beacon can stare at them all. 

Along with everyone else Stiles glances at them all. The tall bearded man is in the centre, next to him the other one Stiles had seen riding, there are three women with them all equally beautiful. "Which of our illustrious guests is Mr Derek Hale?" Stiles murmurs to Lydia. 

"The one in the middle." 

"And the gentleman on the left?" The lightly bearded man is looking around as though everything in the room, including the people, are beneath him. He's handsome though older than rest of the party. 

"Mr Peter Hale. Mr Derek Hale's uncle." Lydia replies just as quietly. "His wealth makes Mr Derek Hale's look like pocket change."

Stiles raises an eyebrow looking at Lydia in surprise. She nods, red hair falling onto her pale shoulders. 

"Tell me."

"Twenty thousand a year." 

Stiles knows he's gaping. Lydia elbows him again. He closes his mouth with a clack of his teeth. The party move forward and slowly the music starts, the dancing begins and the chatter increases. "Who are the women?" Stiles eyes the three with interest, two of them look alike while the third is of a more eastern appearance. 

"Two are Mr Derek Hale's sisters. His older sister Miss Laura Hale is the taller one, the other is Miss Cora Hale their youngest sister. The third is Miss Kira Yukimura a ward of the Hale family."

With a nod Stiles looks around the room, he catches Scott's eye and his brother nods at the newcomers. When Stiles shakes his head Scott gives him the puppy dog eyes that he knows Stiles cannot refuse. "I see my brother is already smitten." 

"Come, I'll get father to introduce us all." Lydia says firmly, her father is talking at, rather than to, Mr Derek Hale. 

Stiles signals to Scott. He comes rushing across. "Isn't she the most beautiful woman you've ever seen?" 

"Yes." Stiles immediately answers, though he has no idea which one Scott is referring too.

The three make their way over, it's painfully obvious what they are doing and Stiles feels embarrassed. People will assume he, Scott and Lydia are going over to worm their way in to marry into the rich money. Stiles has no interest in these intimidatingly beautiful women. 

"Ah and here is my daughter now," Mr Martin's smile dims. "And her friends." He says bluntly, tone of voice flat. Stiles can't stop himself from raising an eyebrow at Mr Martin who stutters a little before clearing his throat. "My daughter, Miss Lydia Martin and her friends Mister Scott McCall and Mister Stiles Stilinski." 

They all trade bows and curtsies before Scott steps forward and bows again in front of Miss Yukimura. "If you are not otherwise engaged, may I have this dance?" He looks at her eagerly, and though her cheeks become pink she nods and holds out her hand for Scott to lead her onto the dance floor. 

Both Mister Hales watch her go. Mr Derek Hale looks pleased, under his thunderous eyebrows but it's the calculated look on Mr Peter Hale's face that catches Stiles' attention. The pale blue eyes flick from Scott to Stiles. He finds himself pinned under the intense gaze, Stiles should say something, bow or move but he can't look away. He doesn't _want_ to look away. 

"Mister Stiles Stilinski?" One of the women says, "who names their child Stiles Stilinski?" 

Mr Peter Hale blinks and Stiles is free to grin at the sisters. "No one. My parents gave me a Polish monstrosity of a name with too many consonants and not enough vowels." 

"He couldn't even pronounce his own name until he reached his teenage years." Lydia chimes in. 

Stiles laughs loudly to cover his embarrassment, "I'm not entirely sure I could even pronounce it correctly now. Only my mother could." 

"Well why don't you ask her?" Miss Cora, the youngest one nods at where Stiles' father and mama Melissa are dancing together. 

"Ah. Mama Melissa is not my birth mother," Stiles says. It's common knowledge in Beacon something he has not had to inform people of before. However to these newcomers it isn't known and for the first time in his life Stiles has to explain his odd little family. "My mother died when I was child and my papa remarried Melissa McCall so Scott and I became brothers. The closest Melissa ever came to pronouncing my name was Mischief."

The Hales all looked uncomfortable. "I apologise." Miss Cora offers her hand, "you may dance with me." She says it like it's something Stiles should be grateful for, he looks around helplessly. Lydia is grinning sharply at him and he can see the single men of the village edging closer to the sisters trying to get close enough to get a dance after seeing Scott's success. 

"I... alright." He takes her hand and leads her onto the dance floor in time for the next song to start. Scott is still dancing with Miss Kira. Mr Derek Hale follows behind to join them on the dance floor with Lydia.

The dance is the only time when they can talk freely. Stiles asks about Miss Cora's travels and how she likes Beacon. He talks about the country side and how beautiful it is and where the best walks are. "You aren't like other men." Miss Cora comments bluntly. Stiles has noticed she's quite direct in her speech and he likes it.

"And you are unlike any other woman." Stiles gives her a wink. 

Miss Cora rolls her eyes. "I just meant that you don't seem to be interested in my family's money."

"I have no desire to marry you or any woman for money." 

"You wish to marry a woman for love?" 

Stiles pauses a little. "Something like that." 

Her eyes flick to the side. "I think I understand." 

The conversation moves on and at the end of the dance Stiles bows, kisses the back of her hand and falls away into the crowd. Scott is still dancing with Miss Yukimura. 

Stopping by the drinks table Stiles accepts a cup of rum punch, he meanders away to lean against the wall in a quiet spot at the back of the hall as he sips his drink. Stiles is discreet in his observations of the people around him. He becomes an accidental eavesdropper in a conversation between the two Mister Hales.

"Would you not dance Uncle?" 

The look Mr Peter Hale gives is scathing. 

"I merely wish for you to find some enjoyment in the evening." Mr Derek looks around, "there are so many pretty girls here." His eyes linger on where Lydia is now dancing with a local man.

"Indeed." Mr Hale inclines his head. He, too, glances about the room. His eyes comes to rest on Stiles and their gazes hold as he responds to his nephew. "Though you know I have never been tempted by a pretty girl." 

" _Uncle_." Mr Derek admonishes. 

Mr Hale waves his hand in the direction of the dance floor. "Go, Derek. You are wasting your time with me." 

Sensing the argument over, or more likely one he is unable to win Mr Derek moves back to lead his elder sister onto the dance floor. Mr Peter Hale stays where he is, intense blue gaze on Stiles. 

Even though his cheeks burn Stiles steadfastly sips his punch and refuses to look at the other gentleman for fear of what he will see, more accurately what will be seen in him. Once his cup is drained Stiles saunters to place it on the table then finds a pretty local girl to dance with. 

He dances every dance after that; with local girls, with Miss Yukimura - call me Kira - once, with the elder Miss Laura Hale once and another two with Miss Cora. Through every step of a foot, movement of his body Stiles is aware of eyes on him. No matter where Mr Hale walks throughout the evening, Stiles knows he is watching, he'll turn in a dance and catch sight of those piercing blue eyes. 

Stiles wants to say it makes him edgy and uncomfortable, and in a way it does, he's never before been the object of someone else's attention. Mostly though, Mr Hale makes him feel _wanted_.

*

After the ball Stiles spends more of his time walking around the woods. He doesn't want to be at home, he feels as though someone looks at him they'll find him out. Stiles has never felt so conflicted. As a young man he knew how important it was to hide this side of himself and he thought he'd be able to move through life with no issues. 

Now there is a stranger in the town and the balls and country that looked at him, saw through the facade and knows the secret that Stiles has kept from everybody, including himself. 

It's dark and the clouds are heavy with rain, so he begrudgingly makes his way indoors. Scott is bouncing in his seat in the drawing room. "Stiles! I got a letter!" 

"Congratulations?" Stiles is unsure why this is so important. 

"It's from Derek Hale. He's invited me to dine with him and his uncle tonight." 

"Just- just the two of them?" 

"The ladies are dining out at the Martin's." Scott peers at Stiles. "You look pale. Do you need to sit down?"

Stiles shakes his head. "I am fine. Have you asked Papa for the carriage?"

"I did. Papa John said yes, but mama said no, I am to ride on horseback." Scott shrugs, he has a grin on his face. He doesn't care either way, being invited to dine with the men is a privilege that few in the village will have. 

"You better hurry, it looks like rain." Stiles comments. He's bitter and so confused, taking it out on Scott is not the answer but he cannot bring himself to be happy for his brother. 

A hand settles on his shoulder. "Are you alright, Stiles? You have not seemed yourself since the ball." 

"I am fine." 

"I can put in a good word for you, if you wish." 

"No!" stiles shouts, it makes Scott take a step back. 

With a frown Scott lets his hand drop, "I only meant so you can pursue Miss Cora Hale." 

"Right." Stiles nods once. "You should be going, Scott. Have a wonderful time." 

Scott nods, he comes forward to hug Stiles long and hard then he leaves the room shouting for the manservant they to help him get ready. Stiles sits in the window seat, rests his forehead against the glass and watches the sky. 

* 

A letter arrives late the next morning from Nemeton Hall. Scott had not returned last night, Stiles is worried from him. Over breakfast Mama Melissa had been pleased, "now he can stay until he is well and will be able see Miss Kira." 

"Mama!" Stiles had scolded her. 

"Let your mama have her fun, son. She needs something to entertain her mind, and if match making Scott and Miss Kira is the way she chooses to please herself, let her do it." Papa had looked over the paper at Stiles. "It'll be your turn next, yours and Miss Cora's." 

Stiles had swallowed thickly. 

Now though, the letter from Mr Derek Hale informs them that Scott is ill with a fever and headache. The doctor has been called to see to him and insisted that Scott must rest. He is welcome to remain at Nemeton Hall until he is well enough to travel and that they, the family, are free to visit. "I must go to him." 

Mama Melissa looks out the window. "The carriage will not make it, with all the rain yesterday the mud will be too thick for the wheels." 

"I'll walk." 

Papa glances at Mama Melissa. "You'll walk." He repeats flatly. 

"You won't be fit to be seen." Mama Melissa protests.

"I'll be fit to see Scott. You know bad his chest gets Mama Melissa. I need to see if he's breathing okay." Stiles stands up, the discussion is finished. "I'll go now and I should be back for dinner." He kisses his parents on their cheeks then fetches his coat. 

The walk to Nemeton Hall is long and muddy, Stiles' boots and trousers get covered and splattered with the stuff. He doesn't care as he hurries along through the countryside to see his brother. 

The sun is bright and it makes Stiles hot and sweaty, he throws his coat over his arm, unbuttons his waistcoat and undoes the laces on his shirt. However, as he approaches Nemeton Hall, Stiles buttons up the waistcoat and throws on his coat before knocking on the door.

The servant leads him into a small reception room where Mr Peter Hale and Miss Laura are waiting. Mr Hale stands when Stiles enters the room, his gaze lingers on Stiles' face dips down to his boots and rests somewhere under Stiles' chin. It's then that he remembers he didn't lace up his shirt. 

"Mr Stilinski," Miss Laura greets, when her uncle says nothing. 

"Forgive me, where is my brother?" 

"Upstairs." Miss Laura says, "the servant will show you." 

Stiles looks from her to Mr Hale and nods, "thank you." He spins on his heel, the servant hovers by the door. 

As they leave he hears Miss Laura say "did you see his boots? Covered in mud. And his trousers too! Don't tell me you didn't notice Uncle Peter." 

"Oh I did." Mr Hale replies, and Stiles closes his eyes briefly. He'd barged in here like a fool looking like an urchin. The servant comes to a stop at a door just beyond the top of the stairs. 

"In here, sir." 

"Thank you," Stiles opens the door. Scott is lying in bed looking pale and sweaty, his breathing hampered badly enough that Stiles can hear him wheeze from the doorway. "Oh Mama what you have done." Stiles says to himself, he kicks off his muddy boots, throws his coat over the back of a chair and moves to his brother's bed side. 

Stiles spends the day nursing Scott, wiping him down with a cloth he wets in the washing basin. Scott wakes at one point to smile at him before drifting back off to sleep. A knock sounds and before Stiles can move the door is opening.

"How is he?" Mr Derek asks quietly. 

"He is very ill, I'm afraid Scott doesn't have the best lungs." 

"Do I need to send for the doctor again?" 

Stiles gives him a grateful smile, "not today Mr Hale." 

"Call me Derek. I hope we're to become friends," he holds out a hand for Stiles to shake. 

"Call me Stiles." He says as they shake. 

"I'll send a man to your house to get you some things. You can stay as long as you need to, for Scott." 

"I-" Stiles thinks of Mr Hale and his too-knowing gaze, then he hears Scott wheeze and his mind is made up. "I appreciate that, thank you Derek." 

Derek smiles, he's quite pretty under the beard and eyebrows. He eyes the half-eaten plate of food that had been sent up to Stiles for dinner. "Would you like to join us in the drawing room?" 

"Alright. Scott should be getting some sleep now anyway." 

"I'll leave you to get ready, Stiles." Derek gives him another smile and leaves the room. 

Stiles hastens to wash his face and tighten the strings on his shirt, he redresses himself and makes his way downstairs. Unfortunately Stiles doesn't know where the drawing room is. He follows some sounds and comes across Mr Hale playing snooker. 

He stands up and leans on his cue, eyes roving over Stiles' body. "Mr Stilinski."

"Mr Hale." Stiles bites his lip, "excuse me." He bows and backs out of the room. After a few more wrong turns Stiles ends up in the drawing room. Derek smiles at him from the table where he is playing cards with his sisters and Miss Kira. 

"Mr Stilinski, how is Mr McCall?" Miss Kira asks, eyes on him eager for news. 

"He is doing as well as expected, Miss Yukimura. I thank you all for your hospitality towards us both." 

The door opens and Mr Hale comes in. He hovers by the bookcase for a second, picks a book and then sits on the chair opposite the one Stiles has settled in. Stiles watches him read, eyes on the way his big hand cradles the spine of the book in his palm and the delicate way he turns the pages. 

"Have you read this one, Mr Stilinski?" 

Stiles' eyes dart up to meet Mr Hale's gaze, his lips are twisted into a smirk and his gaze as intense as ever. "I can't say that I have." 

"Here." Mr Hale closes it then holds it out to Stiles. "I have read it previously."

"I couldn't-"

"Of course you can." Mr Hale interrupts, voice firm. "For purely selfish reasons, I assure you Mr Stilinski. I need someone to discuss this book with me, for those cretins over there refuse to do so." 

"It's boring Uncle Peter," Miss Cora moans, while the others laugh around her. 

Stiles reaches out and takes the book, fingers brushing the warm skin of Mr Hale's hand. Mr Hale holds onto it just a fraction too long. It's enough to make Stiles' cheeks heat. "I look forward to hearing your opinion." 

"I look forward to sharing it, Mr Hale," Stiles glance at him from under his lashes. The smirk has gone and Mr Hale's expression is, for lack of a better word, hungry. 

Stiles, not knowing what else to do, opens the book and begins to read.

*

It takes Scott a week to get better. Stiles stays in the room next door. As Scott improves he spends less time with his brother and more time with the Hales. He is often in the library reading, it took him two days to finish the book Mr Hale had given him. 

They'd spent the better part of an entire afternoon discussing - _arguing_ \- over it in the drawing room with Miss Cora for company. It feels like she's chaperoning them, but that can't be possible.

At dinner one night towards the end of the week Mr Hale comments about how he will be leaving within the month to go back to his own home. Stiles drops his knife, he'd assumed that Mr Hale would be staying with Derek and his sisters. 

"Do we have to go?" Miss Kira asks, her eyes flick from Mr Hale, to Stiles to the ceiling. 

"I'm afraid so, love. I have been remiss in my duties for far too long. I cannot dally about here forever." Mr Hale sounds regretful. "Of course, you are welcome to visit Kira and I." 

Derek looks out the window. "Maybe. I like it here." 

Miss Cora snorts and Stiles grins at his plate, Derek is very obvious in his regard for the county and the lovely Lydia Martin based on all the questions he's asked Stiles about her.

The next day Stiles and Scott are given access to the Hales' carriage to take them, and their things home. Stiles pauses by the front door in front of Mr Hale. "I enjoyed our conversations, Mr Hale." 

"As did I." Mr Hale practically purrs. "You're welcome to visit me at my estate." 

Stiles looks him squarely in the eye. 

"Stiles!" Scott shouts breaking the moment. 

"We'll see, Mr Hale." Stiles holds out a hand for Mr Hale to shake. After a brief pause Mr Hale wraps his big, warm palm around Stiles' slender fingers. Their eyes meet and it feels like so much more than a simple handshake. It feels illicit, intimate and Stiles is on fire, burning all over with a level of want and desire he hasn't ever allowed himself to feel. 

"Good day, Mr Stiles Stilinski." Mr Hale lets go of Stiles' hand. 

With a nod Stiles makes his way down the steps and into the carriage next to Scott, he keeps closing and opening his fist, he's not sure if he's trying to keep or remove Mr Hale's phantom touch.

*

Life settles down. Stiles visits Lydia and plays up Derek's kindness and generosity. He invites the remaining Hales (Derek, Laura and Cora) to dine with him, his parents and Scott. Stiles can be a little scatterbrained and it happens to be the same night he invites Lydia around. 

Lydia gives him a pointed look but humours Derek's attempts at conversation. Soon enough the two of them are unaware of the others around them. Scott asks Miss Laura about Miss Kira, he's utterly heartbroken that she has left. Stiles is just as devastated, despite having no real reason. Mr Hale's face swims in his mind, blue eyes penetrating Stiles' thoughts. He shakes his head to dispel them. 

Almost six weeks after that dinner a letter arrives for Stiles. He doesn't recognise the handwriting. 

_Dearest Mr Stiles,_

_I hope this letter finds you and your family well._

_I am writing on behalf of my ward, Miss Kira Yukimura, to invite your bother, Mr Scott McCall, to visit us at the Hale Estate in the upcoming summer. On a purely selfish note I am extending the invitation to include you._

_I miss our discussions on the books we share, politics, business. If I may be frank? I miss our discussion on everything. You have an inquisitive mind and the connections you make fascinate me. I wish to see you again._

_Please, let me know if the summer suits. You may stay for as long as your father and mother can spare you._

_With warmest regards,_

_  
_

_Peter Hale_

Stiles reads the letter three times in a row. He sits back against the chair and holds the paper to his chest. He'll tell Scott soon, right now this is his. Stiles looks at the letter again. He slides his finger gently over the curves and curls of the name he's never allowed himself to say aloud. 

Smiling, Stiles reads the letter a fourth time. Summer is in four weeks, he wishes he could be spared forever by his parents. However that is improper, Stiles will ask for eight weeks, at best he and Scott will be allowed to be gone for six.

He makes his way to his Papa's study, only when he has a length of visit will Stiles break the good news to Scott. 

*

Four weeks later Stiles and Scott are on their way to spend a full eight weeks with Mr Hale and Miss Kira. Both of them are excited for different reasons. Stiles feels a level of anticipation at the thought of sharing his ideas with Mr Hale, not only that but also being near enough to pass him a book, or the salt or _anything_ so their hands can touch again. 

In the darkest hours of the night Stiles has allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to touch Mr Hale in all the improper ways. Stiles has even taken to murmuring his name, just so he can get a taste of it on his tongue. _Peter_. It's easy to say, even when one is breathless. Stiles found that out when he was brave enough to take himself in hand to thoughts of the older man, he'd gasped out "Peter" as he came in a mess over his own chest and belly. 

Stiles hasn't said it since, not in the light of day, anyway. He and Scott have taken a long train ride, then a coach and now a carriage brings them around the corner to see the Hale Estate in all its glory. 

It's a large building, with stunning gardens surrounding it. It's well kept and the driver of their carriage informs them of all the good things Mr Hale does for the people in his employ that work on the ground and even in county beyond the Hale Estate borders. A housekeeper is waiting for them by the door, she's older, face wrinkled with by smiles more so than frowns. "Good afternoon gentlemen. The Master will be so pleased you are here. He is wandering the grounds, but the Miss Yukimura has waited in the drawing room all day to see you. May I take you there?" 

"Please," Scott replies eagerly before she has even finished offering. The housekeeper smiles, and indicates that they follow her. She leads them into the stately home, Stiles looks around everything with interest. Scott hurries him along. 

"Mister McCall and Mister to Stilinski, ma'am." The housekeeper announces with a curtsy to Miss Kira who throws her embroidery to the side and stands, a large smile upon her face. 

"I am glad you're both here," Miss Kira says, though she only has eyes for Scott. "I trust your journey was pleasant." 

"It was great." Scott says, besotted, sinking onto the chair opposite Miss Kira. 

"It was long," Stiles winks at Miss Kira over Scott's shoulder. "I need to stretch my legs. Is it alright if I take a walk around the grounds?" 

"Of course, Mr Stiles. Please, make yourself at home. Mr Scott will catch me up on everything I've missed in Beacon." Miss Kira dismisses Stiles the moment she turns her gaze to Scott. 

With a light laugh to himself Stiles heads back out the front doors. He wasn't just looking for an excuse to leave Scott and Miss Kira alone, Stiles does have a need to stretch his legs. 

The ground of the Hale Estate are bigger than any grounds Stiles has ever seen before belonging to a single house. It's overwhelming, he doesn't know where to start. The gardens are very well kept but Stiles ambles over towards a copse of trees, it's more familiar to him and his woods at home in Beacon than manicured gardens. 

Stiles puts his hands on the branches as he walks, the trees are different here, they smell different too. He hears a splash and Stiles heads towards the sound. Only he's stopped in tracks when a very wet Mr Hale appears before him. His shirt is untucked from his riding breeches, the laces undone exposing his neck, chest hair and Stiles is speechless. 

"Mr Stilinski." Mr Hale looks at him wide eyed. "I did not know you had arrived." 

"I ... only just." Stiles says, he tries to keep his eyes from looking at where the breeches cling to thick muscled thighs, or at the see through shirt, or even at Mr Hale's face. 

"I assume your journey was adequate." 

"It was fine." 

Mr Hale nods. "Excuse me." He stalks off, long strides eating up the distance to the house. Stiles watches him go, then, as soon as he's out of sight Stiles gasps. 

"Oh my word." Stiles looks around, he takes a few steps and sees a lake. Mr Hale must have gone swimming in it, briefly. Spinning around Stiles hurries out of the trees and tries to find somewhere else to hide. His face is burning. He should never have seen Mr Hale in such a state of undress, it's improper. Stiles mind though is stuck on the image of the man, soaking wet and under-dressed. 

So caught up in his thoughts that Stiles doesn't notice he's not alone until a throat clears behind him. He's still standing beside the lake and turns carefully, hardly able to meet Mr Hale's eye. 

"I apologise, for my attire earlier. I did not realise the time, people tend not to come to this part of the estate and-"  
"It's my fault. I shouldn't have been out here..." Stiles breaks off, Mr Hale has taken a step closer bringing them within touching distance. 

"You look a little flushed, Mr Stilinski." Mr Hale's voice has lowered to a deep murmur. 

"I- Stiles, you can call me Stiles." He whispers bravely, meeting Mr Hale's eyes. 

Stiles' eyes dip to watch Mr Hale's throat as he swallows. "Say it." There's no mistaking his tone, it's a command, his eyes burn. "Say my name, Mieczysław."

"How did you..." Stiles trails off when Mr Hale raises his eyebrows. He licks his lips, "Peter," Stiles can barely hear it himself. Mr Hale breathes in deep through his nose and Stiles is emboldened, he repeats it again more firmly. "Peter." 

"Mieczysław." Mr Hale smiles. In this hidden area of trees Stiles lets himself look, he takes it all in and admires the beauty of the man before him. "That is your name, is it not?" 

"It is." Stiles shuffles forward, so they are close still, chests brushing as they breathe. "How did you guess?" 

Mr Hale -Peter - gives him a disappointed look. "I did not guess, Mieczysław. You once said the closest Mrs Stilinski could come to pronouncing it was Mischief. That your name was Polish in origin. I did some research. Double checked with a business associate of mine who knows Slavic languages on the pronunciation." 

"You went through all that trouble just for me?" Stiles can't believe it. 

"I assure you, it was no trouble." 

They gaze steadily at each other. Stiles feels like he's on the precipice here. He could turn around and leave, he has a feeling Peter will let him and nothing more will be said on the subject. Or, _or_ , he could take a leap of faith. 

"Peter." 

"I like hearing you say my name." Peter peers at him. "What do you want, Mieczysław?" 

Opening his mouth Stiles wants so much that he doesn't know where to start, he ends up shaking his head helplessly. Peter takes pity on him, "do you want to go to the house?" 

"No." 

"Can I touch you?" 

"Please," Stiles is expecting Peter to hold his hand, or touch his shoulder. He does neither. Both his hands come up to cup his cheeks, fingers reaching into the short hairs behind his ears and thumbs brushing over Stiles' cheekbones. It's overwhelming, Stiles closes his eyes and lets himself feel. 

"Mieczysław," Peter whispers throatily, "you can touch me as well." 

With that permission Stiles' shaky hands come up to rest on Peter's hips. He keeps his eyes closed, feels the light flutter of Peter's thumbs. "Open your eyes, Mieczysław." 

Slowly Stiles blinks them open and he finds Peter much closer, his eyes so blue, face filling Stiles' vision that all he can see, all he can focus on is Peter. "I wish to tell you, with the utmost sincerity, how much I adore you. I would ask for your hand, my dear Mieczysław, if I could."

"Peter," Stiles is breathless with emotion. He doesn't love Peter but he could, lord knows he _could_.

"May I kiss you, Mieczysław?" 

"I've never..."

"No?" Peter seems surprised by that. "A pretty boy like yourself?" 

Feeling self-conscious Stiles shrugs, "Beacon is a small town. No one else is like me." 

"My dear, you are correct. _No one_ is like you, but that's not limited to Beacon Mieczysław, in the whole world you are unique." Peter is so sincere yet there is a fierceness to his tone and his grip tightens around Stiles' face. "As for liking other men, that is far more common than you seem to think it is." 

"Oh." Stiles' tongue flicks out to wet his lips and Peter's gaze darts down to watch it. "Yes. To answer your question, yes." 

Peter comes closer, his face hovers over Stiles' long enough that Stiles can count three exhales of Peter's warm breath fanning over his mouth and chin. Stiles tips his head up against Peter's grip and then suddenly their lips are meeting. It's so soft and nothing like Stiles ever thought. He can feel Peter's beard scratching at the skin around Stiles' mouth, his lips are a little rough and he moves them firmly over Stiles'. Peter's tongue dips into the space between Stiles' lips and is gone again so quickly that Stiles thinks he imagined it. He pushes his tongue forward and ends up licking Peter's bottom lip, their tongue meet briefly then Peter pulls back. 

Stiles sucks in air and opens his eyes. Peter's cheeks are pink and he's breathing heavily. 

When Peter looks at Stiles again he smiles, small but genuine. He slides a hand into Stiles' hair and the other drops to his shoulder, Peter reels Stiles in so their bodies press tightly together. It's easy for Stiles to slide his arms further around Peter's hips, to press their heads together and close his eyes relishing in the ability to finally be himself, who he _truely_ is.

"I'd like to kiss you again, Mieczysław." Peter says in Stiles' ear, it makes him shiver. 

"I'd like that." Stiles pulls back and angles his head pressing their lips together again. It's not a long kiss but it's enough to make Stiles want more and more and more. "Peter," he says when they break apart again. 

"I can be discreet, my dear." Peter smiles, though it's tainted by a sadness Stiles doesn't understand. "I know how terrible people can get about men like us."

"I'm sorry." 

Peter gives him a look. "It is not your fault."

"It was an expression of sympathy, not an apology Peter." Stiles leans in to press his lips to the corner of Peter's mouth. "Do you want to show off your beautiful grounds?" 

"There is no need if you already find them beautiful," Peter smirks. 

"Everything here is beautiful." Stiles answers honestly, their bodies slowly separate though their hands do linger. 

Peter quirks an eyebrow, "including the owner?" 

"Especially the owner." Stiles finds himself flirting back, it makes Peter laugh. 

"You are here for eight weeks, correct?" Peter asks, as though he doesn't already know the answer. When Stiles nods he continues, "I could show you a thing or two." 

"About kissing?" Stiles asks, cheeks hot and stomach full of happy butterflies.

"And more if you'd like, my dear." Peter waves his hand in the direction of the house, "my house is large enough and my staff are discreet enough. I could show you anything. I want to show you everything, Mieczysław."

"I don't think eight weeks will be long enough for everything." Stiles admits. He tips his head, "you know, my father could only spare both Scott and myself for eight weeks. I am sure he would not mind if I did not return with Scott." 

Peter gives him an appraising look. "Indeed? I have been thinking about taking on a _partner_ , to be by my side in my business. Perhaps that is a permanent position you would like?" 

Sliding up to wrap his arms around Peter's neck, Stiles kisses him again he makes it deeper and wetter, Peter's hands come up to grab high up Stiles' thighs pulling Stiles more flush against him. "I think," Stiles gasps as Peter presses his mouth to Stiles' throat, "I'd like any position you put me in. _Peter_." 

"We'll build up to that, my dear." Peter pulls away with a chuckle. "Come, I'll give you a tour of the house." 

Stiles nods, they straighten their clothing and make their way out of the trees. Peter points at different parts of the ground telling him about the plants and people that tend them. He explains the different properties of the plants, some are food sources, some are used in medicines and some just look pretty. Stiles hangs on to his every word, he's been attracted to Peter's intelligence since their discussion about the book. Before then even, there was a knowing-ness to Peter's gaze when he'd looked at Stiles he knew what - who Stiles was and now in this place where no one really knows him Stiles is free to be whoever he wants to be and mostly, that's _Peter's_.

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr](https://cathcer1984.tumblr.com/)
> 
> If I need to tag anything else let me know.
> 
> Title is a reference to the deleted scene in the 2005 film version. And it's what Peter calls Stiles.


End file.
